Stranger in My Arms(38)

“And if I do wear it? What guarantee do I have that you won’t…”

“Leap on you in a fit of lust?” he supplied helpfully. “Bull the cow, hoist the cock, play the hurdygurdy-” “Oh, stop it!” She glared at him while her cheeks turned crimson.

“I won’t touch you,” he promised, a grin tugging at his lips. “Just wear the damn gown for one evening. Will it be so difficult?”

“No.” She dropped the gown and covered her hot face with her hands, her small voice seeping out from between her fingers. “It will be impossible. Please, you must ask something else of me.”

“Oh, no.” There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to see her in the black negligee.

“You’ve told me what you want-and I’ve reciprocated. You’re getting off lightly, you know. The child will be here for years, whereas your part of the bargain will be over in one evening.”

Lara lifted the frail wisp of a gown and regarded it with distaste. It was clear she would have preferred a hair shirt that would scrape off two or three layers of skin. Her snapping green eyes met his. “If you dare to touch me or make jest of me, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll find some way to make you sorry. I’ll-” “My love,” Hunter interrupted softly, “you’ve already made me damned sorry. It’s a constant source of regret to me, knowing that if I’d been kind to you all those years ago, I’d be in your arms right now.

Instead I’m reduced to bargaining for just one glimpse of you.”

Lara’s defiant anger faded, and she regarded him with pained confusion.

“It wasn’t all your fault,” she said unhappily. “I wasn’t the one you wanted. And I don’t enjoy intimacy of that kind. I think it’s the way I’m made, or just some instinct I lack-” “No, Lara. God. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Hunter closed his eyes, while the bitter taste of regret filled his mouth. He chose his words with excruciating care. “If you could just allow yourself to believe for one moment that it doesn’t have to be painful or unpleasant-” “Perhaps you could be more gentle than before,” Lara said, her lashes lowering. “I believe it doesn’t necessarily have to be painful. But even then, I don’t think you could change my feelings about the act.”

Her lovely face was so apologetic and dejected that it took all Hunter’s strength to keep from going to her. “What feelings?” he asked gruffly.

Lara replied with obvious difficulty. “To me, what happens between a man and woman is so… sordid … shameful… and I’m such a failure at it. I have some pride, you know.” She picked up the silk garment, which hung limply in her perspiring hands.

“Making me wear this is a mockery, don’t you see?

It reminds me of my inadequacy as a wife.” “No,” he said roughly.

“The failure was your husband’s, Lara.

Never yours.”

Lara stared at him with an arrested expression. The words he had chosen-your husband’s-made it sound as if he were speaking of another man. Of course, he could be referring to himself in the third person, but it was an odd way to speak about himself. A touch of fear prodded her heart to beat more sharply, and she wondered if she should voice her suspicions. Before she could say anything, however, Hawksworth headed to the door.

He paused at the threshold and glanced back at her. “The bargain is set, Lara. If you want the child to stay, you’ll have no objections from me. You know what I want in return.”

Lara nodded stiffly, twisting the negligee in her hands as he left.

After Lara had changed into fresh linens and a light muslin gown, she emerged from her room to find Hawksworth waiting for her. There was an almost penitent look on his face, though she sincerely doubted that he regretted the bargain he’d made with her. “I thought you might take me around the house and describe the changes you’re planning with Mr. Smith,” he said.

“Perhaps you should consult with Mr. Smith and his assistants instead.

I’m sure they are far better able to explain things than I, and if you don’t approve of the schemes we’ve chosen, you can take it up with them directly.”

“I approve of everything you’ve chosen.” He took her hand and smiled at her, lightly playing with her fingers. “And I don’t want to talk to Smith. I want you. So take me around the house… please.” The last word was added with a cajoling smile she found hard to resist.

Lara hesitated while his fingertips drifted to the tender inside of her wrist. “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you as much as I can remember, although Mr. Smith used many Italian words that I couldn’t begin to pronounce.”

Hawksworth laughed and kept her hand as they walked, threading his fingers with hers It was an oddly pleasant feeling, her hand enclosed in his much larger one.

They began with the ballroom, where the Moroccan statuary would be replaced by rows of gleaming windows and marble colonnades. “They’ll use fleur de us marble, I think,” Lara said, stopping in the middle of the ballroom, the two of them standing alone on a sea of shining parquet. Her voice echoed slightly in the large room. “Mr. Smith said it contains many beautiful shades of amber. And over on that wall, they’ll install ivory-colored paneling to make the room lighter.”